His Change Of Heart
by Saria Grey
Summary: The Battle of Hogwarts is over and the Wizarding World is recuperating. Some wizarding families are grieving, while others are falling apart. The Malfoy's have been all but shunned and Draco is desperate to escape... desperate enough that he calls upon someone he has always considered an enemy: Hermione Granger. What happens when he arrives at her house seeking solace?
1. The Enemy Comes to Call

**Hey everyone! This is my first fanfic in a really long time, but I'm super excited about it! I don't want to give too much away in the summary, but it takes place after the battle of Hogwarts. Hogwarts is reopened and the students return to finish their final year of school... kind of. Please, please, please read and review! Reviews are what make me want to write more and I really love hearing what you all have to say. Thanks :) sg.**

After the Battle of Hogwarts ended, Hermione spent several days at the Burrow with the Weasleys and Harry Potter, but they were constantly reminded of all the friends they had lost in the fight. There was a void in the house that should have been filled by Fred, Remus, Tonks, and many others.

It would take a very long time for them to all recuperate mentally and physically from the fight.

Hermione had always been a very practical, calculating witch, but the Battle had taken its toll on her as well. She was exhausted, and quite frankly, just wanted to escape and relax for a while. She did not know what her next move would be. To top things off, her relationship with Ronald Weasley had taken a nosedive after the death of his brother.

A few weeks was all Hermione could stand to stay at the Burrow, and she soon returned to her parents' house in London. The house was exactly the way she had left it. That is, apart from the absence of her parents. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were still enjoying their Australian vacation, entirely unaware that they had a daughter at all. Hermione decided that until she could travel to Australia herself to reverse the memory charm she had placed on them, she would stay in and tend to their old house.

It took her nearly two months to truly adjust to her solitary role in the house, and she had even been looking in the Daily Prophet for job openings. There were several at the Ministry of Magic, but thoughts of the Ministry left a bad taste in Hermione's mouth. She didn't want anything to do with them at the moment.

The summer rolled on, and it was mid-July when the first letter from Draco arrived.

Hermione woke to the sound of something rapping on her bedroom window. Her first thought was that a tree branch was being tossed around by the wind, but she quickly remembered that there was no tree in their yard. Her eyes flew open and she leaped out of bed. Waiting patiently outside her window was a handsome eagle owl with a letter clamped in its claws. She threw open the window and retrieved the letter from the unfamiliar bird, but it did not depart.

Opening the letter, Hermione read:

_I can't believe I'm even writing this to you, but I wanted to make sure you were alright after the battle. I know you lost a lot of friends. How are you?_

_D.M._

_D.M.,_ Hermione thought curiously, but no one came to mind. She stared at the initials for a long while, expecting the name to suddenly come to her, but she was at a loss. She looked outside her bedroom window at the eagle owl that was patiently waiting, and it struck her.

She _did_ recognize the owl. She had seen it deliver mail in the Great Hall several times to someone across the hall.. Someone who always gloated about the packages he received. _Someone..._

A chill running down her spine, Hermione sat down at her desk and scribbled out a short reply.

_Draco?_

_H.G._

Hermione leaned out the window and handed the letter to the owl, who hooted loudly in reply. He then spread his wings and took off into the sky. When he returned a few hours later, he carried another letter.

_Yes. Are you surprised?_

_D.M._

Hermione frowned. The more she thought about it, the less she believed that Draco Malfoy was actually writing her letters. After all, they had spent seven years as enemies. Why would he have such a change of heart all of a sudden? Unless, it someone pretending to be Draco... With a smirk, Hermione pulled out a roll of parchment and quickly jotted down two words:

_Prove it._

When the eagle owl did not return for the remainder of the day, Hermione figured that she had won. Whoever was writing her knew that their game was up. They could not fool her. But she was surprised when she woke the following day and saw the eagle owl waiting outside her window.

_You punched me in the face in third year._

_D.M._

Hermione smiled, and began her reply:

_Ron and Harry were with me that day. You could just as easily be one of them._

_H.G._

The response Hermione got following her letter made her laugh out loud. It was written in all caps, and Hermione could imagine Draco growling through his teeth as he wrote:

WHY THE BLOODY HELL SHOULD I HAVE TO PROVE WHO I AM... TO YOU NO LESS? I AM DRACO FUCKING MALFOY... NOT SCARHEAD OR WEASEL. WHY AM I EVEN HAVING THIS CONVERSATION WITH YOU? THIS IS WHAT I GET FOR TRYING TO DO SOMETHING NICE... DON'T REPLY TO THIS!

She wrote back quickly, laughing the entire time.

_Okay, I believe you. I apologize for doubting you. Is that better? And why are we having this conversation anyway?_

H.G.

Draco read the letter once before throwing into the lit fireplace with the others. He watched as the edges of the paper turned dark and a hole quickly burned through its center. He was risking his relationship with Lucius by even writing to a mudblood, so he had to be as cautious as possible. He then strode over to his dark-stained oak desk and pulled out another piece of parchment. Why was he doing this? He didn't even like Granger. He had been raised to hate mudbloods, and now he was owling one... he disgusted himself.

_Like I said in my first letter, I just wanted to check on you. Is that a crime?_

_D.M._

Hermione pursed her lips. Something definitely wasn't right. Draco was being far too nice for comfort.

_It's not a crime.. just strange. I'm not sure why you even care, but I am doing fine. I can't say the same for some of my friends. How are you?_

_H.G._

Draco managed a smile. How was he? That was a hard question... He wasn't even sure how he was at the moment. After all, something had to be seriously wrong with him for him to want to write Granger. He tossed the letter into the fireplace and set to work on his response.

_Things have been hard. My mother is divorcing Lucius because he refuses to renounce the old ways. The Malfoys are being shunned by a majority of the wizarding world at the moment, but it'll all blow over... Wait, why am I telling you this? _

_D.M._

Hermione frowned as she read her letter. She understood without having to be told what Draco was going through. His world was changing, and he wanted someone, _anyone_, to talk to about it... even if that meant writing to her. With a sense of empathy, Hermione replied:

_I'm sorry to hear about your parents. If this is an attempt to put our past behind us and start over, then I accept. I'll be here to listen to anything you have to tell me. _

_H.G._

Draco threw Hermione's letter in the fireplace and watched it burn to ashes. Even after the letter had disappeared, Draco stood staring into the fireplace for a long while. He didn't want to write another letter... No, that wasn't true. He didn't want to _want to_ write another letter.

_Something like that... and, as mush as it pains me to say it, thank you Granger._

_D.M._

Their correspondence continued over the rest of the week, and they formed a fickle friendship through their letters. Draco spoke of his desire to get away from it all, how he yearned to disappear. Hermione comforted him the best she could, still skeptical about the whole thing. After carrying hate and resentment toward Malfoy for so long, it was difficult to simply put all her past feelings aside and pretend to be friends. But she was trying.

And now, Hermione held the most recent of Draco's letters in her hands. She had read over it several times and could still not believe it had come to this. What was she thinking? She had been contemplating her reply for hours, and was still unsure if she should go through with it. She took a bite of the sandwich she had prepared and glanced over the letter a final time.

_I'll be there tonight at eight. If you change your mind before then, you know where to find me._

_D.M._

Hermione was kicking herself. Why did she have to suggest that Draco come stay with her to get away from things? He could have gone to the Leaky Cauldron... he could have gone anywhere... but she had to open her big mouth and invite him into her home. What on Earth was she thinking? She was only trying to be nice, but perhaps she had gone too far this time.

Hermione glanced nervously over at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. It read seven o'clock on the dot. She only had a few minutes left if she wanted to tell him not to come. But something inside her would not let her write that letter. Something inside her, something definitely twisted, actually wanted him to come. After all, he had been nice enough in his letters. Maybe he really had changed?

Or maybe this was all part of his plan? Did he have a plan?

Hermione groaned. She was over-thinking things, which is exactly what she wanted a break from. Thinking.

Just before eight o'clock, Hermione rushed upstairs and looked at herself in the mirror. _Ugh_, she thought. She looked rough. She brushed her hair out quickly, wet it lightly, and pulled it into a bun behind her head. She then changed her T-shirt, to one of her nice halter tops. She contemplated putting on makeup before she stopped herself abruptly.

"What am I doing?" she whispered sharply. She was trying to make herself attractive for the same rude and vile Draco Malfoy that had plagued her all those years at Hogwarts. The same Draco Malfoy that was her best friend's mortal enemy. Yes, that very same Draco Malfoy.

A knock at the front door startled her. Her heart was slamming in her chest and she could feel her cheeks burning red. Trying to keep her breathing level, Hermione darted down the stairs to the front door, pausing for a moment as her fingertips touched the doorknob. She swallowed hard. What had she gotten herself into?

There was another knock and Hermione wrenched the door open. Standing on her door stoop was a tall, dark hooded figure. In one hand he carried a slender broomstick and to his side stood a black dragon skin trunk. Slowly, he lowered his hood and revealed a splash of white-blonde hair. Hermione studied the familiar face of Draco Malfoy, his unblinking gray eyes watching her carefully.

"Are you going to invite me in, or do I have to sleep outside?" Draco questioned with a smirk.

"If you'd rather sleep outside, you're welcome to," Hermione said, but stepped aside to let him pass.

Draco carried his broom and trunk down the hallway and waited for Hermione to show him to the guest bedroom. The guest bedroom was off the living room; It was rather small, only containing a bed and a wardrobe, but it was cozy. Draco slung his trunk onto the foot on the bed and sent his broom flying into the corner. He then turned on Hermione, who caught her breath.

"Th... Thanks, Granger," he said. "I appreciate this."

Hermione smiled kindly. "It's not a problem. But I'm still curious as to why you chose me."

Draco chuckled. "I'll admit, I've never been particularly fond of you. But as you said, let's let bigones be bigones. Besides, I won't have to worry about being recognized in the muggle world."

_Of course_, Hermione thought. He wanted to be somewhere where no one would judge him or shun him. He wanted to be normal for a change. Hermione smirked at this revelation.

"What?" Draco said, cocking an eyebrow.

"All this... isn't it strange?"

"You have no idea," he said.

"So what do you want to do?" Hermione asked timidly.

"We could go flying."

"No thank you. I hate flying. And besides, isn't the point of this to blend into the muggle world. Here's a hint... muggles don't fly on brooms."

Draco scowled. "Then, what do you want to do?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'll give you a tour of the house, considering you'll be here for a while."

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "I thought this was only for a few days."

She blushed. "A few days is a while."

Shaking her head, Hermione showed Draco into the kitchen, which had a small dining table sitting in front of a bay window. They then ventured upstairs where Hermione showed him the bathroom, her parents room, and her own room. Seeing that her room was rather disorganized at the moment, she snapped the door shut as quickly as she could and she thought she saw a smirk flash across Draco's face.

They finally settled into the living room, Hermione seated on the sofa opposite where Draco sat, and Hermione flipped on the television. She watched as curiosity filled Draco's eyes and she realized that he had never watched TV. She scanned the channels, not looking for anything in particular and Draco watched her.

"What do muggles do for fun?" The question seemed to choke him slightly, as though the thought of actually caring about muggle pastimes was physically painful.

This humored Hermione. "Watch television, play sports, play board games... the same things wizards do, only a little different."

Draco watched Hermione, whose eyes were glued to the television. She had fixed her hair - it was neatly tied behind her head - and he had never seen her wear clothes like those. She looked so different now. He couldn't believe that he had never seen it before.. Sometime in the last few years, Hermione had transformed from a young girl to a woman. Or perhaps, it was the war that did it.

Draco massaged his temples and shook the repulsive thoughts from his head. After all, it was _Granger_ he was thinking about.

"If you're tired, you can go on to bed," Hermione whispered, seeing Draco out of the corner of her eye.

He nodded curtly. "I think I will, thanks. I'll see you tomorrow."

Hermione watched as he crossed the room to the guest bedroom and closed the door behind him. Not wanting to disturb him, she turned off the TV and headed upstairs to her own bedroom. As she closed the door behind her, a sickly feeling came over her. Draco Malfoy was in her house, and soon she would be asleep and unable to protect herself. She drew out her wand.

She locked the door so that Alohamora could not unlock it and also placed a impenetrable charm on the wood... just for safe measure. There, she thought. Let's see him try and get in now without waking me first.

Hermione woke the next morning to find her door perfectly in tact and there was no sign that Draco had tampered with it. Slightly comforted, she made her way downstairs in her pajamas to make breakfast. She arrived to the kitchen and her eyes bulged when she saw a naked Draco standing on the opposite side of the island in the middle of the room, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

She stared, bug eyed, at his chiseled chest and arms. His muscles flexed and rippled with every move he made, and Hermione found herself unable to take her eyes off him. Her gaze fell, taking in his perfect abs, his navel, and then the counter top. Hermione made no effort to step any closer.

"Good morning," Draco said. His voice was bitter, but Hermione knew that he was trying his best. And to be honest, she was proud of him.

"Morning," Hermione greeted, not budging from the doorway.

Draco replaced the carton in the fridge and stepped around the edge of the island. Hermione squeaked, but was utterly relieved when she saw a pair of blue shorts. She sighed with relief, and then burst into laughter

"I thought you were nude," she gasped for air.

"You wished I was," he said, winking over his glass.

Hermione rolled her eyes and set to work making breakfast. She decided it was only kind to cook for Draco as well. After all, he _was_ her house guest. They sat down together at the table to eat, Draco still only partially clothed. They ate awkwardly in silence for the better part of their meal.

"So let me get this straight," Hermione finally piped. "We're putting everything behind us and basically starting over?"

Draco nodded. "Mmmm-hmmm."

She stuck her hand out across the table. "I'm Hermione Granger."

He laughed, but returned the gesture. "Draco Malfoy."

Hermione blushed and looked away from him; She looked out the window through the blinds. It was a beautiful day outside; The sun shone brightly and a light breeze tossed the bushes and trees.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" she asked skeptically.

"Sure," he said. He was finished with his breakfast, but waited for her to finish before he left the table. Hermione fought a smile. She never knew he was capable of manners.

After breakfast, Hermione headed upstairs to shower. She dressed herself in a pink sun dress with white sandals and braided her hair neatly. Before she headed downstairs, she slipped on some rose lip gloss and looked over herself in the mirror a final time. _It'll have to do_...

She made her way downstairs and found Draco waiting for her in the entryway. He too had showered, and he was now wearing a pair of jeans and a steel-colored dress shirt. Hermione blushed; He looked incredible in gray

"You clean up nicely," she taunted.

"You too... Granger," he added her name as an afterthought. She was certain there had been another word on his tongue, but once again, he was trying to change.

She gestured towards the door. "Shall we?"

There was a park a few blocks away, and that was the destination Hermione had in mind. They took off down the streets, walking with at least two feet between them at all times. Hermione stole a few glances at Draco, admiring how his hair shined in the sunlight and how he walked with such poise. She immediately scolded herself.. how dare she think anything of the sort about him. _Draco Malfoy_.

They arrived to the vacant park and Draco led the way to the swings. He took a seat in the middle swing and gestured for Hermione to sit next to him.

"Are you regretting this yet?" he asked.

Hermione did not answer, because the truth was she didn't know. She did not necessarily enjoy Draco's company, but she did enjoy the fact that he did not insult her every time they spoke and that they could at least be civil.

"Are you?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted.

"Well let me know when you decide," she jested.

"You'll be the first to know."

"Where did you tell your parents you were staying?" Hermione asked.

"With Blaise."

"And they won't owl you while you're there?"

"They'll hardly notice I'm gone. After all, they're too busy fighting over the estate."

Hermione felt for Draco. She wanted to say something to comfort him, but the words were lost on her tongue. Should she hug him? No... that was definitely outside the boundaries.

"You know... muggles are incredibly boring," Draco said.

"I resent that."

"But you aren't a muggle are you?"

Hermione's heart fluttered. "That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

He smiled. "I'll have to try harder then."

She blushed.

"Do you want to do something else?" Draco asked.

Hermione nodded with curiosity.

Draco held out his hand, palm up, to Hermione. She stared at it for a moment, debating silently both the pros and cons of taking it. She reached for it slowly, cautiously. When her fingertips reached his palm she felt sparks of electricity shoot up her hand.

She grasped his hand firmly and with a sickening jerk, they disappeared.

"Are you insane?" Hermione snapped.

Draco let go of her hand the second she regained her balance and shoved his hands into his pockets. They had just arrived in Hogsmeade and were standing in front of the Three Broomsticks.

"Aren't you afraid someone will recognize you?" she asked.

He shook his head. "It's summer. All the students are gone. Besides, I want a drink."

Hermione rolled her eyes but followed Draco closely as he entered the pub. To Hermione's surprise, the Three Broomsticks was completely empty except for a hooded man sitting in the far corner. They made their way to the other side of the bar, well out of earshot and sight of the hooded man, and took a seat in a booth. To Hermione's horror and surprise, Draco let her scoot in first and then he sat down beside her.

The bar owner, Madam Rosmerta, made her way over to their table. Upon seeing Draco, her face flashed a look of worry, but she quickly recovered.

"What will it be?"

"Two Butterbeers," Draco answered.

The woman soon returned with two tall glasses of butterbeer before heading back to the bar to continue cleaning. Hermione glanced down at her mug timidly while Draco tilted his back and took a drink.

"You do like butterbeer, don't you?" Draco asked.

Hermione nodded and replied timidly. "But I didn't bring any galleons with me. I only have muggle money."

Draco snorted. "Did I ask you to pay?"

Hermione gaped. Was Draco Malfoy seriously offering to buy her a drink? What in the name of Merlin was _wrong_ with this boy... Perhaps she should speak with a representative from St. Mundo's. Afraid she was being rude, Hermione brought the mug to her lips and sipped her drink. It was ice cold, sweet, and refreshing... exactly how she remember it. She couldn't even remember the last time she had tasted Butterbeer... it must have been sometime in her sixth year at Hogwarts. So many memories flooded back to her as she sipped her drink: nostalgic, bitter-sweet memories.

By the time she reached the bottom of her mug, Draco had ordered a second one for himself. Her mind tingled and her coordination was suffering slightly. Draco simply laughed at her as she leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes.

"You're a lightweight," he mocked.

Hermione smiled. "I'm certainly not heavyweight."

Draco laughed into his mug and choked on his Butterbeer.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked.

She bit her lip. "Yes, but I'm not sure it's a good thing."

"What makes you say that?"

"We shouldn't even be hanging out together. You're a Malfoy and I'm a muggle born," Hermione said with a stupid grin. The Butterbeer really _was_ getting too her. Much more and she wouldn't be able to keep her mouth closed. "I mean, in an ideal world it wouldn't matter, but this is far from an ideal world."

"Maybe it can be an ideal world now that Voldemort is dead," Draco whispered.

Hermione gaped at him. "You really have had a change of heart, haven't you?"

"It's hard, when you're brought up believing one thing, to find your own voice in what is right and wrong," he thought aloud. "All my life I was taught to believe that pureblood supremacy was the way to a perfect wizarding world. But since the war, I've realized that my father is wrong."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Who are you are what have you done with Draco Malfoy?"

Draco forced a chuckle. "I appreciate how faithless you are in me Granger. If you choose not to believe me, I understand. I realize I haven't been very... trustworthy... over the last seven years."

"I'm trying to believe you," she admitted. "Obviously, or I wouldn't have let you into my house. But it's going to take time."

Draco met her gaze and didn't look away. She watched his stormy gray eyes as they studied her face. She had never noticed it before, because she had always been blinded by her hate for him, but he was actually quite handsome. He had a strong jaw, flawless complexion, and perfect lips. As she watched him, she felt him growing larger, coming closer toward her. She felt herself being pulled towards him, slowly and steadily as though they were magnets. She had drank far more Butterbeer than she thought... Shaking her head, she looked away from him.

"Thank you for bringing me here," she said.

"Are you ready to go?" Something in his voice almost sounded.. disappointed.

Hermione nodded and Draco helped her out of the booth. He knew she could probably walk on her own, but he walked with his arm around her waist for good measure. As they passed the bar on the way out the door, Draco dropped several galleons on the counter. When they were out in the street once more, Draco tightened his grip on Hermione and they disapparated.

They arrived in Hermione's front yard, the entire street silent and still. Hermione giggled as they entered the house and Draco led her to the sofa where they took a seat side by side. Draco found the remote control and after several attempts, turned on the television. His heart jumped when he felt something land on his shoulder.

He glanced down quickly and found Hermione's head only inches from his face. He did not know if she had her eyes closed, but he guessed she had fallen asleep. He was extremely uncomfortable, more emotionally than physically, but did not want to jerk his arm away from her. Instead, he let her lie there until he heard a change in her breathing. She was taking slow, deep breaths of sleep.

As gently as he could, Draco cradled her so that he could move out from underneath her, and then laid her down on the couch. He smirked. She was so peaceful when she was asleep. Her face was soft and angelic like a doll's. He brushed her hair back softly before quickly jerking his hand away.

He stormed to the guest room where he fell back onto the bed. Tucking his hands behind his head, he closed his eyes. _What the hell are you doing?_

Hermione woke nearly an hour later, entirely embarrassed and afraid to face Draco. She slowly crossed the room and peered around the corner into the guest room. Draco was sprawled on the bed, snoring softly. She crossed the room to the bedside and watched him silently for a moment.

A single white hair rested on his shirt near the collar. The longer Hermione looked at it, the more it bothered her. Surely she wouldn't wake him...

She reached for the hair slowly, trying to steady her hand. However, the more still she tried to keep her hand, the more it seemed to tremble. Just as she closed her fingers on the hair Draco's arm seemed to come to life. In a swift motion, he grabbed Hermione's wrist and pulled hard. His eyes flew open as she landed on the bed.

"It's me, Draco!" Hermione screamed.

Draco immediately loosed his grip on her, but did not let go. He studied her face for a moment, seeing the terror in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I thought you were someone else."

He finally let go of her wrist. A piece of her hair had fallen loose from her braid, and he tucked it behind her ear.

"Did you have a good nap?" he asked.

She blushed. "Did you?"

"You can't always answer a question with a question."

Hermione did not hear Draco's remark because she was lost in his gaze. His stormy gray eyes watched her, taking in every detail of her face. She felt herself being pulled toward him every so slowly. Her heart pounded hard in her chest and she fought to catch her breath. Finally, she forced herself to look away from him.

"I'm going to my room. If you need anything, just ask."

Hermione turned to leave, but Draco caught her by the hand. She turned, both curious and surprised, and found him with his mouth open, as though he wanted to say something. But he didn't.

"Sorry," he mumbled, before letting her go.

As Hermione headed upstairs and shut herself in her room, she thought to herself: _I'm sorry, too._

It was late, probably 11 or 12 o'clock, and Hermione was tossing and turning in her bed. She couldn't sleep. What was worse, she wanted to know if Draco was still awake. She huffed and rolled onto her back.

She gazed up at the ceiling for a moment and almost screamed when she saw words forming in the air above her. They were written in familiar cursive handwriting and glowed bright green.

_You awake?_

Hermione stared in disbelief as the letters floated overhead. They glistened for a moment before fading. She then found herself staring up at the bare ceiling once more.

Reaching over to her side table, Hermione grabbed her wand. She held it in the air and began to draw out a single word: _Yes_. A second later, the word materialized in front of her, glistening in gold. She mumbled an incantation and the word disappeared.

Draco was waiting impatiently. He had not been able to sleep since early that day and he was incredibly bored. Perhaps Hermione was asleep, and in that case, he would get out his broom and go midnight flying. He was just about to give up, when Hermione's reply appeared in front of him.

_Yes._

Hermione wondered if her spell had worked, or if Draco had fallen asleep already, because it took a while for him to reply. She had just closed her eyes, when she saw a light through her eyelids. She opened them again.

_Join me?_

Hermione's heart jumped. She could not explain why she was excited, but she was. She crawled out of bed and made her way to her bedroom door, pausing for a moment to check her reflection in her vanity mirror. _Why do I even care_? She huffed and slung open her bedroom door. _It's just Malfoy_.

She made her way down the stairs, but not too quickly. She didn't want him to think she actually _wanted_ to see him. Politely knocking on the door before barging in, Hermione waited for Draco to call to her.

"Can't sleep?" Hermione asked as she stepped into the room.

"Nah," he answered. "Thinking too much I guess."

He was only wearing a pair of shorts, much like the ones from that morning. Hermione took a seat on the foot of the bed, blushing. She couldn't take her eyes off him.

"You can come up here," he said, patting the bed beside him. "It can't be comfortable down there."

Nervously, Hermione got up and made her way around the bed. She laid down beside Draco and stared up at the ceiling.

"Can I ask you a question?" he said.

"Shoot."

"Do you want me to leave?"

Hermione was confused. "No. Why?"

"Because I'd understand if you did. I don't know if I make you uncomfortable. And I don't know if you'll ever truly forgive me for everything. But whatever you're feeling, I'd like to know."

Hermione hesitated. "I don't hate you, Draco."

He smiled. "That's comforting. You don't hate me, but you don't like me either."

"I didn't say that."

Hermione looked over at him. He had rolled onto his side and was watching her curiously.

"Then you _do_ like me?"

"I didn't say that either."

There it was again... the feeling of being pulled toward Draco, ever so slowly. However, she was certain that she wasn't moving. Or was she? As she lay there gazing at him, she could swear he was getting closer to her.

"Draco," she whispered.

"Yes..."

"Do you hate me?"

Hermione realized suddenly that she wasn't imagining the feeling of being drawn toward Draco. he was actually getting closer to her. His face was only inches away from hers.

"No."

"But you don't like me either?"

Instead of answering, Draco leaning forward quickly and met Hermione's lips with his own. His heart was beating hard in his chest and his hands were shaking. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, but but he couldn't help it. Something about her made him want her. He wrapped his arm around Hermione's torso and pulled her body closer to him. Thankfully, Hermione did not object and she returned his kiss.

Hermione had never imagined what kissing Draco might be like, but it was a pleasant surprise. His lips were soft and easily molded to hers. He matched every move she made perfectly, as though they had done this many times before. She could feel his hand running through her hair and down her back. _This shouldn't feel so right_, a voice in the back of her mind screamed. _This is Draco Malfoy... Draco Malfoy!_

She pushed him away softly.

"What's wrong?" he whispered.

"We really shouldn't do this," Hermione said, biting her lip.

"You don't like it?"

"I do, but..."

"Then do it," Draco whispered sensually, meeting her lips again.


	2. Draco's Departure

Hermione wasn't sure when she fell asleep, but when she woke she found herself curled up next to Draco, her head resting on his chest. She could hear his pounding heart and she could feel the slow rise and fall of his chest. Slowly, and as gently as she could, Hermione removed herself from him and slid off the bed. When she was certain she had not disturbed him, she bolted upstairs to take a shower.

She let the water run over her body as she stood, eyes closed, with her forehead against the wall. She had her arms crossed over her chest and she was trying to slowly wrap her mind around what had happened last night. She had kissed Draco Malfoy... what was worse: _She actually enjoyed it_. She banged her head softly against the tile, trying to shake Malfoy from her thoughts. She didn't want to think about him, but she couldn't help it.

When she could stall no longer in the shower, Hermione retreated to her room and locked the door. She got dressed quickly and sat in front of her vanity, where she put her head down on her arms. _What am I doing? This is insane._ And yet, despite the times she tried to convince herself that what she was doing was dangerous and completely wrong, she could not find it in her heart to believe it. After all, Draco was different now.

_Everyone deserves a second chance..._

There was a knock at her door and Hermione's heart leaped hard in her chest.

"Yes?" she called, head still buried in her arms.

"You okay, Granger?"

"I'm fine."

"Can I come in?"

Hermione did not answer.

"I wanted to apologize for last night. I was a complete ass."

Her curiosity peaked, Hermione crossed the room and opened the door. Draco was leaning against the door frame, watching her carefully. He had donned a white T-shirt which seemed to make him glow: His white shirt, his pale skin, his pale hair... Hermione blinked hard and returned to reality.

"How were you an ass?" she asked curiously.

"I overstepped the boundaries... I shouldn't have made you kiss me."

"Who said there were boundaries?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "I did."

"Who said you made me do it?"

Draco struggled to find his words. "Uh... I did?"

"I forgive you," she said.

Draco looked dumbfounded for a split second, but quickly recovered. "Uh... good."

Hermione forced a smile.

They stood there awkwardly in the silence for a long moment, both fighting for something to say. Finally, Draco broke the silence. "Do you want to go get something to eat?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know. Surprise me."

When they were both ready, they met in the living room. Draco was dressed in black slacks and a green dress shirt. Hermione felt slightly under-dressed in a simple blue dress, but when she saw the smile on Draco's face, she forgot about her insecurity.

"Nice, Granger," he complimented.

Hermione blushed. "Are you ready?"

He nodded.

Hermione held out her hand nervously. Smiling, Draco took it and intertwined his fingers in hers. Hermione caught her breath before closing her eyes. She was finding it difficult to focus. She pictured the little cafe, with its blue painted door and antique decor, and an alleyway that lined a nearby building.

Then, with a crack, they disapparated.

They appeared in a small alleyway and Hermione quickly led them out onto Tottenham Court Road. Expecting Draco to jerk his hand out of her hold the moment they arrived, Hermione's heart slammed in her chest as they emerged onto the sidewalk walking hand in hand. The cafe was only a block up from where they had apparated, and the entire while, Hermione's thoughts were focused solely on her hand intertwined with Draco's, and what he could have possibly been thinking.

They ducked inside the cafe, which was crowded, and took a seat in a vacant table by the storefront window. Draco sat across from Hermione and rested his chin on his folded hands.

"Aren't you afraid someone will see us?" Hermione whispered.

"Yes. But maybe I just don't care."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and whispered, "Draco Malfoy doesn't care if he's seen with a muggle born? Holding hands, no less!"

"If you'd prefer, I'll leave and we can go back to hating one another."

Hermione shook her head. "That's not what I want."

"Besides," Draco added, "I doubt we'll run into anyone I know."

Thankfully, the waitress came over at that moment. They ordered their drinks, and Hermione ordered their food. When she received a curious look from Draco, she smiled.

"You said surprise you."

He smirked.

"I did, didn't I?"

Hermione nodded and sipped on her orange juice. Draco simply watched her, not taking his eyes off of her until their food arrived. Hermione had ordered a menagerie of breakfast foods including french toast and a fried omelet.

Draco's eyes widened. "Are you going to eat all this?"

Hermione glared.

"Kidding," he said as he took a bite of french toast.

When they could eat no more, Hermione made her way to the counter to pay for their meal and they slipped back into Tottenham Court Road. The midday crowd was thicker than it had been that morning, and Draco grabbed hold of Hermione's hand once again. They slipped back into the alleyway where they had arrived earlier and Hermione took a final look at Draco.

He leaned forward quickly and kissed her lips before they disapparated.

When they arrived in Hermione's living room, she was still blushing.

"Watch it Malfoy, you don't want step over the boundaries."

He stepped closer to her and wrapped his arms around her torso.

"Who said there were boundaries?" he asked.

"You did."

"Oh... well, this is me saying there aren't any." He leaned down and caught her lips with his.

Hermione happily returned his kiss and felt sparks of electricity shoot throughout her body. Hermione, being the most gifted witch her age, was familiar will all forms of magic, but this... this was a form of magic she had never experienced. Hermione Granger, who always had an explanation for everything, who had an answer to any question, was at a loss for why she could feel this way about Draco Malfoy. As he cupped his hand behind her neck and pulled her to him, she lost her train of thought and lost herself in his kiss.

Hermione locked her hands behind Draco's neck just as he broke away from her. She tensed slightly as he lowered his head and pressed his lips to her neck, just below her jaw. Hermione felt her knees go weak, but she knew Draco would not let her fall. She closed her eyes and Draco kissed her neck, this time lower.

Draco moved slowly, trying desperately to control himself. The feel of Hermione's soft skin on his lips was enough to drive him mad, but he couldn't lose control. He could feel his hands starting to shake as he kissed her neck once more, but this time he paused. He was staring at something, something he had never seen before. There, on her neck, was a thin, white scar.

It was barely visible against her skin, but now that he had noticed it, he couldn't take his eyes off of it. He ran his thumb slowly over the scar, end to end and for a fraction of a second, he wondered where she had gotten it. But then a horrible reality hit him. He knew where she had gotten it, and he knew from who.

He remembered the night clearly: some snatchers had brought Granger, Weasley, and Potter to his house to collect their reward and Draco was forced to watch as his Aunt Bellatrix tortured Hermione. He tried to leave the room, but his father would not let him out of his sight. He tried to look away, and he tried not to be sick. He could still hear her screams...

Draco closed his eyes tight, and without meaning to, tightened his grip on Hermione.

"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly.

He nodded, but could not force himself to answer. Memories were now flooding back to him, memories that he had tried so hard to forget: Witnessing murder after murder inside his own home, many of those murdered being people who knew; a pair of evil, red eyes with slits for pupils; his mother begging the Dark Lord to have mercy; being put under the Cruciatus Curse by Voldemort when he had failed to kill Dumbledore; witnessing one of his best friends, Vincent Crabbe, falling to his death.

When he finally opened his eyes again, Hermione was watching him worriedly. "What's wrong."

"I... your scar..." he stammered. "I'm so sorry, I should have done something..."

Hermione pressed her fingers to his lips to stop him.

"You couldn't have done anything," she explained.

"But..."

Hermione shook her head. "Draco, we don't blame you for anything that happened. If we did, I'm sure Harry wouldn't have saved your life."

But Draco didn't want to think about it anymore. He had spent the last few weeks trying to forget, and that's what he wanted to do: forget it all. He took Hermione's hands in his and forced a smile. Then, with a slight jerk of his head, he gestured toward the guest room. Hermione followed bashfully, her cheeks burning red.

Draco sat on the end of the bed and pulled Hermione to him. He wasn't much shorter than her, even though he was sitting down, and he stretched his neck up to kiss her. Again, as it did every time he touched her, a fire erupted in his chest and he seemed to lose his sense of reality. Nothing in the world existed but them.

Draco fought to keep his breathing level, but he couldn't seem to catch his breath. It had gotten unbearably hot. Without thinking, he reached for his shirt, unbuttoned it, and discarded it in the floor. Losing his shirt should have cooled him down, but it didn't. If anything, it only fueled the fire that was already alight inside him.

He felt Hermione push him backwards, and his eyes flew open. However, she was not pushing him away, she was pushing him down onto the bed. His heart slammed hard against his ribs as she climbed on top of him. His hands were trembling as he ran them through her hair. He took a deep, shaky breath, trying with every ounce of his will to slow his pulse.

His hands longed to explore her body, to run over every inch of her soft, exposed skin, but he refrained. How he maintained any shred of will power at this point, was beyond him.

Draco sat up slowly and wrapped Hermione in his arms and slowly lowered her to the bed. He moved swiftly and flawlessly, despite his nerves. For a moment, he thought he might have made her uncomfortable, and he paused, but then he felt her smile on his lips.

Hermione, unlike Draco, was trembling like a leaf. She wished she could remain as cool and collected as he did, but she couldn't help it. Her heart and mind were both racing, and she couldn't decide which was the bigger priority. She ran her hands down Draco's exposed back and felt his muscles ripple beneath her fingertips.

Draco broke their kiss and met Hermione's gaze for a brief moment. He opened his mouth as though to say something, but a noise outside the door caught his attention. Hermione had heard it too, and she gasped suddenly.

More quickly than Hermione would have thought possible, Draco leaped off the bed, landing silently on the floor, and drew his wand. He made his way across the room and disappeared through the doorway cautiously. Hermione sat up. She was still shaking, her heart slamming quickly in her chest. She was waiting for anxiously for Draco to return, wondering whether she should draw her own wand and follow.

After a long moment Draco returned, laughing and carrying an envelope in his hand.

"It was just your mail," Draco said.

Hermione sighed with relief as he handed her the letter.

She looked at the envelope for a long while, taking in its familiarity. It was addressed in emerald green ink to Ms. Hermione Granger. She flipped it over and saw the Hogwarts crest impressed into a dab of scarlet candle wax. She gasped and tore open the letter.

_Ms. Hermione Granger,_

_ We are pleased to inform you that you have been chosen to fill the temporary Transfiguration teaching position at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the upcoming school year. Due to recent events and after careful consideration of your school marks, we feel that you are the best candidate to fill this opening. Term will commence on September 1. Please respond promptly with your reply so that preparations may be made for your arrival. _

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress_

And then, almost as an afterthought, a short comment was scribbled at the bottom of the parchment:

_I do hope you will consider and rejoin us.. - MM_

Hermione could hardly believe her eyes. She had not considered the possibility of Hogwarts reopening so soon, much less returning in the fall, and never did she expect she would be offered a position to _teach_ at Hogwarts. A smile spread across her face. She may have been tired from the war, but nothing could deter her from returning to Hogwarts.

"It's a letter from Hogwarts," Hermione said, seeing the curious look in Draco's eyes. "They're reopening this year."

Draco sucked his teeth. "So, you're going?"

"Well..." Hermione paused. "They want me to teach Transfiguration... at least temporarily."

His eyes grew wide in disbelief. "And you're seriously considering it?"

Hermione frowned. "Yes," she answered feebly.

Draco nodded and sat on the end of the bed. The moment was ruined for him, and although he would have liked to resume their previous activities, he felt it was better if he didn't.

"Great," he said halfheartedly.

Hermione, feeling defeated, made her way across the room to the doorway. She looked back over her shoulder, but Draco was not watching her. He had turned his attention to the wall: apparently something there amused him.

With a sigh, Hermione headed up to her room where she withdrew a piece of parchment and wrote out her short and simple reply:

_I would love to take the Transfiguration position, and I can't wait to be back!_

_Hermione Granger_

When she had finished the letter, she folded it neatly and laid it on the corner of her desk: she would send it by owl later. But now, she wanted to return downstairs and talk to Draco. She didn't want him to be upset with her, but she couldn't imagine why it would bother him if she returned to the school.

Hermione skipped briskly down the stairs but was forced to a halt when she reached the bottom: an odd sight made her heart drop. There, sitting against the front door was Draco's black, dragon skin trunk and leaning against the wall was his broomstick. He, however, was no where in sight. Hermione could hear her heart slowing, as though to a stop, and the blood rushing in her head. _What is going on?_

As though in a trance, Hermione rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs and walked slowly into the sitting room. Draco was emerging from the guest room, and when he saw Hermione standing in front of him, he paused.

"Are you leaving?" Hermione said, hardly more than a whisper.

Draco opened his mouth, but did not reply immediately. He glanced away quickly, afraid to meet her gaze.

"Yes," he said. "I need to be getting home. I told my parents I would only be gone for a few days."

Hermione nodded reluctantly. She could feel a hole growing inside her, an odd emptiness, that would surely consume her entirely the moment Draco left.

Now, Draco looked at her and forced an awkward smile. "Thanks for letting me stay here, Granger."

Hermione answered mechanically, determined not to let her emotions get the best of her. "Anytime," she said.

They stood there awkwardly for a moment, Hermione not wanting to beg him to stay, and Draco not wanting to meet her gaze. Finally after a long, silent moment, Draco made his way around Hermione and into the entrance hall. She followed after a moment and watched as he grabbed his broomstick.

"Will you write?" she asked curiously.

The corner of his mouth curled upward into a smirk. "Only if you want me to."

She nodded, but she wasn't sure he noticed.

He opened the front door and stepped out into the day with his trunk and broomstick, Hermione following apprehensively. She wanted to say something - anything - to make him stay, but her tongue seemed incapable of forming words. Instead, she watched silently.

Draco mounted his broom and secured his trunk to the handle in front of him. He was about to kick off of the ground when Hermione's nerve got the best of her and she shouted, "Draco!"

He stumbled in surprise and turned to see Hermione running toward him. She threw herself at him and he swept her into his arms. He was not surprised when she kissed him, and he did not try to stop her. He had been hoping she would say something; It proved that she did not want him to go. However, he could not stay.

When they parted, Draco pulled Hermione gently forward and kissed her softly on her forehead.

"I'll see you again," he said. There was no doubt in his voice: it was a promise.

Hermione nodded. "Soon."

With a smile he kicked off of the ground and Hermione watched him rise into the air. He muttered a Disillusionment Charm and vanished as he soared away from the Earth, away from Hermione.

Hermione retreated inside closed the door behind her. She made her way to the sitting room, a numb feeling engulfing her. Taking a seat on the couch, she snatched up a throw pillow and clutched it tightly to her body. She hoped that the harder she squeezed the pillow, the less she would notice the dull pain in her chest. Even though Draco had said he would see her again, she knew deep down that probably wouldn't happen.

G_one, _she thought numbly.

She closed her eyes and felt a single, hot tear slide gracefully down her cheek.

_He's gone_.


	3. Hoggy, Warty Hogwarts

"Hermione... Hermione!"

Hermione blinked and found herself gazing out a window of the Hogwarts Express. The scenery was rushing by in a blur, but her mind had been miles away. Still, the image of a pair of stormy gray eyes lingered in her mind.

"Hmm?" she hummed, gazing around the compartment in a daze.

It was Harry who had addressed her, and he was still waiting for her reply.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "What did you say?"

Harry frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. "I was asking about your parents. Were you able to get their memory charms reversed?"

Hermione shook her head to clear her mind. "Umm... yes. I wrote a letter to Percy at the Ministry and they sent an Auror to Australia. I didn't get to see them before I left, but they should be back home this week."

"I'm glad to hear that," Neville said before falling silent again. He was sitting across from Hermione and Harry with Luna Lovegood at his side.

It had been quite a surprise to see Neville and Luna at Platform 9 3/4, especially considering that they had attended Hogwarts for their seventh year. However, when they had settled into their compartment, Harry asked the question that was on both his and Hermione's minds:

"What are you two doing back? Did they not let you pass?" he asked.

Neville shook his head. "Professor McGonagall gave us the option of returning, since the fight kind of ruined the end of our seventh year. We debated about it for a long time, but we finally decided that it wouldn't feel right if we didn't come back to graduate."

And then it was Neville's turn to ask, "Are you guys finishing your seventh year too?"

Hermione glanced nervously at Harry who gave a slight shrug. After all, they wouldn't be able to hide the fact they were teaching once they arrived at Hogwarts and were seen at the teacher's table.

"Harry and I," Hermione started shakily. "Are going to be teaching this year... it's only temporary."

"That's great!" Luna chimed excitedly, and Hermione breathed a small sigh of relief. She had not been sure how the others would take it, since she and Harry had been given such a unique privilege.

"What will you be teaching?" Neville asked.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry said.

"And Transfiguration," Hermione added.

"It's like Dumbledore's Army all over again, only this time, it isn't a secret! This is so exciting," Luna said happily.

Neither Neville nor Luna seemed to be bothered in the slightest that they had not been asked to teach. In fact, they appeared extremely supportive of Harry and Hermione.

"We'll be learning from the best," Luna kept saying and she fiddled with the ties on her shoes.

"Just watch out for all the homework you'll get from Professor Granger," Harry laughed.

Hermione shot him a dirty look.

It was blindingly obvious to everyone in the compartment that two of their usual company were missing. The fact that Ron and Ginny had refused to return to Hogwarts this year was a shock to everyone and it was nearly impossible to accept. Hermione was still not sure she believed it until the Hogwarts Express took off from Platform 9 3/4 without them.

The four of them sat mainly in silence. Luna hummed strange tunes to herself occasionally, and Neville asked Harry a question or two about Quidditch, but all in all it was a very quiet, stiff ride. To escape the awkward atmosphere, Hermione finally stood and excused herself from the compartment.

She made her way down the car, glancing into all the compartment windows as she passed by. Every time she saw a flash of blonde hair, she paused, assured herself that it was not Draco, and then continued making her way down the train.

The train was clearly not full; Hermione passed several empty compartments and eventually settled into one toward the front of the train. She slid the door closed behind her and sat down on the empty seat.

She had been so excited to return to Hogwarts when she received her letter, but now that she was on her way, it all felt so wrong. Ron and Ginny were not with them. Many of the people she had expected to see had died in the battle, _and Draco..._

Hermione quickly stopped herself. She had almost reminded herself that Draco was not returning to Hogwarts, but she had tried over the last few weeks to give up thinking about him. She had written him several letters since the last time she saw him, but she had only received short, impersonal replies. Eventually, she had forced herself to stop writing him. The constant disappointment she gained from his replies was too painful. However, despite her efforts, thoughts of him still haunted her dreams. She couldn't escape him, no matter how hard she tried.

A knock at the compartment door startled her. Luna was waving at her through the window, an inquisitive smile spread across her face. As she slid open the compartment door, Hermione noticed for the first time what she was wearing: She wore a pair of denim shorts with knee-high socks, one striped and one with polka dots. Her oversized blue sweater was swirling with several silver shooting stars and she wore her favorite, radish earrings. She took a seat across from Hermione and gazed out the window.

"Something's bothering you," Luna said. It was not a question.

Hermione sighed. "Yes."

"You don't have to tell me what it is if you don't want to."

Hermione considered this. Luna had always been a faithful friend, and she never judged. It would be safe to tell her... at least a little bit. After all, Ginny and Harry wanted her to get back with Ron and neither of them would understand.

"There's this guy..." Hermione started, but she wasn't sure where to go from there.

"Isn't it always their fault?" Luna asked softly. "Hermione, I know you and Ron didn't work out, but that shouldn't stop you from being happy. If it's everyone else you're worried about, forget them."

Hermione smiled. "But that's not all there is..."

Luna interrupted again. "He'll come around. They always do. He'll realize that you're the best thing that ever happened to him, and he will beg you to take him back."

"But, Luna, I'm not talking about Ron," Hermione assured her.

Luna was still looking out the window. "I know."

Hermione's glared at Luna curiously. Something told her that Luna did, in fact, know exactly what Hermione was talking about. Eager to change the subject, Hermione asked, "How are you and Neville?"

Luna's eyes lit up and she smiled. "Fantastic. We spent the summer in southern Ireland searching for Aqua Nymphs. They're a distance cousin of merpeople but they share some traits with Grindylows."

Hermione nodded as she spoke, knowing not to pay her much mind. After all, there was no such thing as Aqua Nymphs.

Luna continued, "Neville did a lot of research while we were there. He's quite the Herbologist. I think he wants to teach Herbology someday."

"He probably could," Hermione said softly. "Who knows how much longer Professor Sprout will be teaching."

Luna laughed softly.

"I just wanted to make sure you were all right. I wasn't sure if it was the boys' company that made you uncomfortable, but I can see that it's not," Luna said, and she crossed to the compartment door. She looked back over her shoulder with a smile and added, "He'll come around. Just wait and see."

Hermione watched Luna disappear down the car with a growing sense of exposure. She felt as though Luna had peeled back her exterior, sifted through the fleshy layers, and seen straight through to her beating heart. She felt that Luna knew exactly what she was going through, and with who, but she didn't dare ask. If Luna didn't know, Hermione wanted it to stay that way. If she did know, Hermione didn't want to mention it.

Hermione sat alone for the remainder of the ride to Hogwarts. She rested her head against the wall and gazed out the window, watching the sun setting over the mountains in the distance. The compartment door slid open suddenly, startling Hermione, but when she turned to investigate, she was disappointed to find the doorway empty. Annoyed, she closed the door once more and pulled the blinds. She needed to change into her robes.

The sun had completely set by the time they arrived and the grounds of Hogwarts were blanketed by darkness. A familiar, booming voice called over the excited chatter of the students, "FIRS' YEARS! Firs' years, this way please!"

Hermione could see Hagrid towering over the students, his bushy black hair blending in with the darkness of night. He carried a lantern in one hand and was waving over the first year students with the other.

"It's nice to be back," she heard Harry say, although she wasn't entirely paying attention. Instead, she was searching the crowd for any flash of white-blonde hair. Again, she reminded herself that Draco had said he wasn't returning to Hogwarts. But, oh, how she wanted it to be a lie.

Hermione and Harry climbed into a carriage with Luna and Neville, who were sitting so close they could have been on top of one another. Feeling awkward, Hermione scooted as far away from Harry as she could and leaned against the side of the carriage. With a lurch, the carriage started forward and they made their way slowly up the winding pathway to the castle.

When they arrived, Professor McGonagall was waiting for them impatiently. She was wearing dark purple robes with a matching hat, and an intense scowl that broke only when she laid eyes on Harry and Hermione.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, rushing forward to greet them.

To Hermione's surprise, Professor McGonagall pulled them into an embrace. Confused, she looked to Harry for an answer, but he looked just as confused as she felt.

"It's good to see you too, Professor," Harry said as she released them.

"If you'll follow me, we'll go into the great hall and get situated before the sorting," she said with a crooked smile before turning on her heel and marching into the castle.

Hermione's excitement was growing. As they turned down corridor after corridor, Hermione admired how pristine the castle looked. The walls and ceilings had been repaired to their original condition, and she couldn't help but wonder how it had all been accomplished.

They emerged into the Great Hall through a door behind the teacher's table. Professor McGonagall showed them to their seats, at opposite ends of the table, before assuming her seat in the middle of the table. Students were already filing into the hall, taking their places at their house tables and Hermione scanned the room for faces she knew. Her eyes eventually fell on the Slytherin table, which was scarcely occupied, but still... no sign of bright blonde hair.

Disappointed, but trying not to show it, Hermione glanced down the teacher's table to admire the familiar faces of those who had been her teachers just a year prior: Madam Hooch was seated next to Harry at the other end of the table, along with a thin, pretty witch that Hermione did not know and Professor Sinistra. A young, handsome man that Hermione found vaguely familiar sat between Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall. On McGonagall's other side sat a vacant, enormous chair which Hermione knew belonged to Hagrid. To Hermione's immediate left sat Professor Sprout and the chair to her right remained vacant.

When the older students had all filed into the hall and taken their seats, the doors at the end of the hall were closed; Hermione knew that after a moment, the first years would enter and wait to be sorted. Looking around the hall a final time, Hermione realized how empty it truly was. Of the four tables, the Gryffindor table was the most full, followed by Ravenclaw. About a third of the Hufflepuff table was occupied, and there were very few Slytherins at all. Hermione's heart sank. It was so sad to see how many people had either not made it through the war, or had simply chosen not to return to Hogwarts. She hoped with all her might that the latter was the case for most of the absent.

Madam Hooch retrieved a familiar stool and a tattered, brown hat which she placed directly in front of the teacher's table. Hermione smiled inwardly; she remembered when she herself had sat on that stool and had been sorted into Gryffindor. It seemed so long ago, and with regret, she reminded herself that it had been nearly a decade.

"Sorry I'm late," Hagrid said as he took a seat at the table. As he sat, the entire table shook and the empty dishes rattled. "What'd I miss?"

Hermione glanced curiously down the table. All the teachers appeared to be present, except for the one to her right who had still not arrived. She wondered for a half a second who would be leading the first years this year, and almost laughed when she imagined Mr. Filch marching them down the hall.

The doors at the end of the Great Hall opened loudly and silence quickly spread over the room. Every head in the room turned to face the first years, who were marching single file down the center of the hall led by a tall, blonde professor in sweeping gray robes. Hermione watched the children bob down the aisle, amazed at how small they seemed. Had she really been that small when she first entered Hogwarts?

And then, something caught her attention. It was the bright, unmistakeable blonde hair of the professor leading the first years along to stand in front of the Sorting Hat. He was not looking at anyone in particular, but seemed rather intent on the task at hand. Hermione watched him, unable to remove her eyes from him as he waited for the first years to gather around. She caught her breath. Blood pounded in her ears.

He was relieved by Madam Hooch, who stood waiting with a scroll of parchment, rolled tight, in her hand. With a curt nod, he bypassed her and made his way up to the teacher's table where he sat next to Hermione. He didn't make a sound and didn't try to catch her eye. Instead, he sat rigidly, gazing ahead.

Hermione, tempted as she was to glance over at him, keep her eyes fixed ahead as well. Her cheeks burned red and she felt lightheaded. Desperate to regain control of her emotions, as well as her blood pressure, she snatched the empty goblet and muttered softly, "Pumpkin juice." To her relief, it filled quickly with a swirling orange liquid; She leaned back in her seat and sipped it slowly.

The Sorting Hat wiggled to life on the stool and began to recite its most recent song.

"Hoist the colors, wear them bold

The bravest wear those of red and gold

Or perhaps the way of wisdom is what you choose

In that case, you'll bear bronze and blue

But if noble power is what you seek

Perhaps you'll wear silver and green

And if instead you are a humble fellow

Then bear proudly your colors of black and yellow

But keep in mind and take to heart

That whether the times seem light or dark

You don't have to keep to your own kind

Because another house may hold a great ally

So step up now, and slip me on

And I will tell you where it is that you belong"

Madam Hooch began to recite the names on the list before her, but Hermione had stopped paying attention when the hat fell silent.

A small, black headed girl stepped nervously up to the stool where she took a seat. Madam Hooch placed the Sorting Hat on her head and after a moment it announced out, "Ravenclaw!"

The Ravenclaw table erupted into applause, although it was not as impressive as it had been in years before. The little girl leaped off the stool and sprinted over to her house table.

Hermione sat in a daze while the rest of the sorting continued. She wanted to sink down in her chair, under the table, and remain there until it was possible for her to leave the hall. When the final student was sorted into Slytherin there was a final round of applause and, Madam Hooch took the stool and the Sorting Hat away; Then, Professor McGonagall stood to address the hall. This time, Hermione did pay attention, because she knew what was coming.

"I want to wish you all a warm welcome," she said warmly. The hall was still perfectly quiet; No one dared interrupt McGonagall's oration. "As I'm sure you are all wondering, a great deal of people assisted this summer in reconstructing the castle, and we have made the difficult decision of reopening this school year. Due to an unexpected turn of events, there have been several staff changes from last year, and I would like to introduce to you your new staff.

This year, Potions will be taught by Professor Malfoy."

Draco stood next to Hermione and nodded curtly, before taking his seat once again and continued to stare blankly out over the hall.

"Transfiguration will be taught by Professor Granger."

Hermione stood up shakily, bumping the table in front of her and trying not curse out loud. She waved quickly at the tables of students before taking her seat.

"Ancient Runes will be taught by Professor Wood."

The handsome professor that Hermione had found familiar stood up and smiled at the crowd. It was then that Hermione realized where she knew him from: He was Oliver Wood, ex-captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He then resumed his seat and Professor McGonagall continued with the roll call.

"Professor Hatchet will be teaching Muggle Studies."

The thin, pretty witch stood up and curtsied.

"And, finally, Professor Potter will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Harry stood up and waved nervously to the crowd. There was an eruption of applause; Hermione was certain it was mainly for Harry's presence, rather than for the other professors.

Professor McGonagall held up a hand to silence the students, and the applause died quickly.

"I know the rest of you are as hungry as I am, so let us feast."

At her words, food appeared on the empty platters set out at all of the tables and there were many "oohs" and "aahs" throughout the hall. Everyone had begun to eat and as Hermione watched everyone enjoying their sumptuous dinner, she began to pick at the food on her plate. However, her mind was not on food. She hardly noticed her stomach rumbling or the incredible smell of roasted chicken. Instead, her mind was focused solely on the man to her right and how he was not eating either.

Hermione fought for something to say to him, but what was there to say? Draco had left her, without an explanation, but with a promise that he would see her again, and then he had hardly bothered to write. It was as though he had decided that she wasn't good enough for him, but he didn't have the heart to tell her so. And to top it all off, he was mocking her now, by teaching at Hogwarts after he had expressed his blatant distaste for the place. Hermione was miserable.

As she struggled to decide the way best to approach him, she saw him move out of the corner of her eye.

For the first time, she did look at him, but just in time to see him walking away, his food left untouched. He was headed toward the door behind them. Hermione only hesitated for a moment, before she made a split-second decision. She pushed her chair away from the table and turned to follow him.

She flew through the door, focused solely on catching him before his disappeared into one of the corridors. She saw his gray robes floating behind him as he walked, swiftly, toward the dungeons.

"Draco!" Hermione called, finding her voice.

He did not stop.

"Draco! Wait!"

She saw him falter before he came to a halt, however he did not turn back. Instead, he waited as he was for her to catch up with him. Hermione walked briskly, but slowed as she reached his side.

"Draco?" she asked softly as she stepped in front of him.

He gazed down at her slowly, reluctant to meet her eyes, and when he did she saw something that frightened her. The side of his face was severely bruised, but it appeared to be healing. It was blotchy and muddled with purples and yellows. She had not seen it from far away, but now that she was so close to him, it looked rather terrible. She fought back a scream and waited for Draco to say something.

He didn't.

"What happened?" she said, reaching for his cheek.

He jerked slightly, but allowed her to softly touch his face.

"It's nothing," he muttered and clasped her hand in his. He lowered them slowly, but did not let go of hers.

"It doesn't look like nothing," she snapped.

"I've had worse."

"Is this why you stopped writing me?" Hermione asked, dangerously close to the verge of tears.

"Partially," he said. He glanced around the corridor to assure that they were alone before adding, "Walk with me?"

Hermione was not very familiar with the dungeons; She had only ever been there for Potions class. Draco led her through several passageways and down a long flight of stairs before they ducked into an empty room and closed the door. As she glanced around, she realized that it was an office.

There was a large desk in the center of the room, and glass shelves topped with precious potions ingredients lined most of the wall space. A large, golden cauldron sparkled in the corner of the room; it appeared to be the only thing that wasn't gray, black, or brown. Cautiously, Hermione crossed the room and took a seat in front of the desk.

"This was..." she started to say, before Draco cut her off.

"Snape's old office. And now it's mine."

"When did you get here? I thought you weren't coming back," Hermione said before dropping her voice and adding, "I looked for you on the train."

Draco didn't answer immediately. A vial on one of the shelves had caught his interest and he was now turning it over in his hand. "Two weeks."

Hermione's eyes grew. "Are you going to tell me what's going on, or do I have to force it out of you? Because I'm not beyond it, just so you know. I've been losing my mind thinking that you decided you hated me after all."

Draco laughed and replaced the vial on the shelf. He crossed the room to where Hermione sat and extended his hand to her. Skeptically, she took it and allowed him to pull her out of the chair. He pulled her to him in a swift motion and wrapped her in his arms. Hermione, who had longed to feel his touch since the day he left her house, felt her knees go weak.

"I don't hate you," he whispered in her ear.

As much as Hermione wanted to be mad at him, she could not find it in herself to be angry. She wanted to yell at him, to tell him how upset she had been, to tell him that she had thought about him every single day since he left her, but she simply couldn't do it. The fact that they were together, and that she was nestled in his arms, was enough to make her forget ever having been upset or mad or disappointed. All she felt now was pure elation.

Draco slackened his grip on her, but she did not move away. She did not want him to let her go. If she could have stayed wrapped in his arms all night, it still would have ended too soon for her liking. Instead, Draco leaned against his desk and allowed her to lean against him in turn, resting her head on his chest so that she might hear his heart beat. He didn't know how long they had stood there in silence before Hermione finally asked him again what had happened.

"My parents knew I hadn't gone to Blaise's. When they got my Hogwarts letter, they sent my letter ahead to his house, and that son of a..." Draco caught himself. It was all over; There was no reason to get mad now. If only he had warned him first, Blaise would have covered for him. "Blaise sent the letter back with a note saying that the owl must have gotten confused and arrived at the wrong house.

My father was furious that I had lied to him, and when I got home he wanted to know where I had actually been. I told him the first thing that came to mind... which was that I had stayed at the Leaky Cauldron. But, that obviously wasn't good enough for him, because he called them to see when I had checked in and Tom told him that I hadn't been in at all that week.

So when he asked a third time, I knew I was running out of options, but I still couldn't tell him where I had really gone. We got in a huge fight and I told him that I was of age, and that I could make my own decisions and that I could do what I wanted. He didn't like that." Draco gestured to his face and Hermione shuddered. She imagined Lucius, swatting Draco in the face with his walking cane.

"When I finally did read my letter from Hogwarts, it was just like yours. Professor McGonagall had offered me the Potions job," he continued. "After the fight with my father, I refused to stay there. I packed all my things and wrote to Professor McGonagall to let her know that I would be arriving earlier than expected. She doesn't ask too many questions, Minerva, but she knows something happened."

"I'm so sorry," Hermione whispered. "I'm sorry about everything that's happened. Maybe this just isn't meant to be."

Draco looked as though she had slapped him. His eyes were searching her face, hoping that she was joking, but nothing in Hermione's expression told him that she was anything less than serious. "Is that how you feel then?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't feel that way, but think about all the trouble it's caused."

"I don't care what kind of trouble it caused," he said flatly. "Things can't get much worse for me, if you want to know the truth, so there's no point trying to smooth it over now. My father is disgraced, and by association, I am as well. There's not many wizards who have respect for us anymore, after everything that's happened. So, really, what more harm can I do?"

Hermione stared up into his stormy gray eyes. Her heart swelled in her chest; It amazed her how much Draco had changed, and was still changing before her very eyes. If only everyone else could see the Draco she knew, then they would easily change their mind about him. He was nothing like Lucius Malfoy - a vile, treacherous troll. Up until the fall of Voldemort, being a Malfoy had treated Draco to riches and social status better than much of the wizarding world, but ever since Voldemort's demise, his name had become his curse.

Draco rested his cheek on top of Hermione's head and hugged her close.

"I can handle anything they throw at me," he assured her.


	4. An Engagement

"Don't forget about your essays that are due next class!" Hermione called as the students made their way from her classroom.

Hermione began to collect and neatly stack her things, entirely unaware of the lone figure who remained in their seat. When she glanced up again, Luna Lovegood was making her way to the front of the classroom.

"Professor?" she said.

Hermione sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you Luna... you don't have to call me Professor."

Luna pretended as though she had not heard this. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"About the lesson?"

Luna shook her head. "A bit more personal."

Hermione nodded. "Of course."

Unsure of how to proceed, Luna stuck out her hand and Hermione understood immediately what she was being shown. Glistening on Luna's ring finger was the shiniest, most bizarre engagement ring Hermione had ever seen: A large midnight blue stone was surrounded by spirals of rhinestones that curved out from every side like glittering eyelashes.

Hermione was flabbergasted. "But you guys have only been together a few months."

Luna also ignored this. "It's supposed to change color during the full moon," she said absentmindedly.

"Congratulations," Hermione finally said, knowing that Luna would simply ignore her if she said anything less than enthusiastic. "H-have you set a date?"

Luna smiled. "We were hoping to do it here, at Hogwarts, over the Christmas holiday. We both enjoy Christmas, and we couldn't think of any place we would rather be married."

Hermione's eyes widened, and she refrained from blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "That's fantastic!" she finally said.

"It is," Luna said definitively. "Which leads me to my question... would you help me address the invitations? I have so much to plan and so little time."

Hermione, although shell-shocked by Luna's request, nodded. "Of course I will, Luna. And if there's anything else you need help with, I'll see what I can do."

Luna's eyes lit up joyfully and she smiled wide. "Thank you, Hermione. I'll come by sometime later.."

Luna then turned on her heel and marched toward the door. Hermione had already returned to collecting her things when Luna paused and turned to face her once more. "I told you he would come around."

Hermione forced a smile as Luna disappeared into the corridor, however, the second she turned the corner, Hermione's heart began to race in her chest. How had Luna known? Had she seen Hermione and Draco disappear together at the first feast of the year? Had she seen the two of them together strolling the corridors leisurely since then? Hermione shook her head in despair before retreating to her office.

True to her word, Luna stopped by later than afternoon.

Hermione had been grading exams for hours and was in a dismal mood; with every answer she marked wrong, her patience dissipated. She was almost relieved when Luna came in carrying an enormous bag thrown over her shoulder and dropped it with an impressive "thud" in front of the desk.

"What's that?" Hermione asked curiously.

"The invitations. I worked on the masks all last night, but I still have several to do."

Hermione arched her eyebrows curiously as Luna bent over the bag, drew out one of the invitations, and laid it on the desk. It was a black and purple mask covered with gems and feathers and attached to it was a neatly addressed envelope.

"It's beautiful," Hermione admired, picking it up and turning it over in her hands. She brought it up to her face and gazed out through the eye holes. Strangely, every surface in the room glittered beautifully. Her desk, the walls, and even Luna shimmered as though they had been dusted with glitter. When she removed the mask, the illusion vanished.

"Do you like it?" Luna asked.

"Do all the masks do that?"

"No," Luna remarked. "They all do something different."

"Aww," Hermione groaned. "I like this one."

"You can have it," Luna assured her.

"Do I get to wear it at the wedding?"

Luna smirked. "Of course. The theme is masquerade, so everyone will wear one."

Hermione squealed. "This is going to be so much fun! How many invitations are we doing?"

"About 400."

Forcing a laugh, Hermione set her own mask aside to allow Luna to lay out their supplies. There were several masks that needed to be decorated; they varied in color and shape, but they all started out uniformly plain. Hermione selected a simple, black one and showed it to Luna.

"Can I have this one?"

"Is it for your date?"

Blushing, Hermione nodded. "Possibly."

"Sure, but let me see it first."

Hermione watched as Luna pointed her wand at the black mask and muttered an incantation under her breath. When she completed the spell, she put the mask up to her face and peered at Hermione through the eye holes; Pleased with her work, she passed the mask back across the desk.

"What did you do?" Hermione asked curiously as she put the mask to her face. She was disappointed to see that the room looked exactly as it had before.

"I fixed the illusion," Luna said simply.

Hermione continued to gaze through the mask, focusing hard on her surroundings, but despite her efforts, the room appeared completely normal. Frustrated, but convinced that Draco would prefer his mask as untheatrical as possible, she sat it aside with her own and set to work addressing the envelopes.

They worked together until supper time and made a great deal of progress. Luna collected the invitations and stuffed them back into her bag before throwing it over her shoulder once more and heading toward the Ravenclaw common room. Hermione snatched the black mask off her desk and left her office, eagerly hoping to run into Draco before she made it to the Great Hall.

As luck would have it, Hermione did quite literally run into Draco when she rounded a corner on the third floor. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her.

"In a hurry, Granger?" he asked.

"Yes, actually," she said. "I was looking for you."

"You found me. What are your other two wishes?"

Hermione glared. "What are you plans for the Christmas holidays?"

"Someone's planning ahead," he remarked. "I'll probably just stay here; There's no way I'm going back to the manor. Wait - why?"

Hermione smiled. "I wanted to know if you would be my date to a wedding?"

Draco's mouth fell open and he furrowed his eyebrows. "Your _date_?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"To a wedding?"

"Yes," Hermione said impatiently.

Draco hesitated. "With you?"

"Draco Malfoy!"

"I'm kidding," he said quickly. They had started walking again, headed toward the Great Hall, and he was glancing nervously down the hallways for students or teachers. "I might consider that. Who's getting married?"

"Neville and Luna," Hermione answered.

Draco howled with laughter that echoed loudly down the corridor. "Longbottom and Luney?" he asked, tried to gain control of himself. "You're barking..."

"I am not," Hermione said hotly. "And her name is LUNA."

"You're right," Draco said, seeing the anger growing in her eyes. He loved messing with her, but he did not want her to be angry with him. "I'm sorry."

When Hermione was convinced that Draco was being sincere enough, she continued, "It's masquerade themed. Here's your invitation."

She held out the black mask to him and he took it skeptically. "I have to wear this?"

Hermione scowled. "I can always put some rhinestones and feathers on it."

"No." He said, shooting her a daring look.

Reluctantly, he put the mask on and looked at Hermione. "How do I look?" he asked.

Hermione, who had imagined him wearing it ever since she picked the mask out in her office, smiled. He looked like some kind of super hero... or thief... with his sweeping black cloak and black mask. He was as sexy as anyone could be wearing a mask.

"Lame," she answered.

She had expected Draco to get mad, or jerk the mask off, but he did neither. Instead, he simply gazed at Hermione, eyes wide.

"What are you looking at?" she asked finally.

"Nothing," he said. "The mask just makes things look... stunning."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? I looked through that mask earlier and nothing happened."

"You just don't know how to use it."

Hermione huffed. She turned to keep walking, but Draco grabbed her hand.

"What are you d-"

Hermione's words were cut off when Draco's lips met hers. For a brief moment, Hermione did not care if anyone saw them. She didn't care if Professor McGonagall herself rounded a corner and caught them snogging. Nothing mattered except that Draco was kissing her, and it was clear that he didn't care if anyone saw them either.

After a moment, Draco pulled himself away from her and pulled off his mask. Without a word, he continued walking and Hermione followed suit.

The two of them walked in silence the rest of the way to the Great Hall. All the while, Hermione wondered what Draco could possibly be thinking. When they had taken their seats at the teacher's table, Draco finally spoke.

"I'll go with you," Draco said.

Hermione smiled inwardly. "What made you change your mind?"

"That kiss was pretty convincing, but if you'd rather be more persuasive..."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Maybe I should ask someone else."

Draco's smile vanished immediately. "Like Weasel?"

Hermione opened her mouth tell him what _he_ and Ron could both go do, but the food appeared at that moment. Abandoning her and Draco's conversation, Hermione became engrossed in the food before her. Hermione refused to acknowledge Draco throughout dinner, despite his obvious attempts to catch her attention. He would clear his throat, or place his goblet extremely close to hers, or nudge her with his knee, but no matter how hard he tried, Hermione pretended as though he wasn't there.

Hermione left the hall when the students began to drift off to their common rooms. She was eagerly headed to her bedchamber for a good night's rest; the day had been draining and she could hardly hold her eyes open. She was rounding a corner to head to the second floor when she felt a hand close around her wrist. Before she could look, she was jerked backwards and around a corner where she found herself face to face with Draco Malfoy.

"Come with me," he whispered.

Trying not to appear annoyed, although she was in dire need of sleep, she sighed and followed Draco down a flight of stairs. He walked quickly, and did not make eye contact with her as they passed groups of Slytherins heading toward the dungeons. Hermione vaguely recognized the path they were taking, but she was too tired to pay much attention.

They walked for several minutes, and just as Hermione was opening her mouth to say something, Draco pulled her into a dark room and closed the door behind him. Immediately, several candles burst to life, dimly lighting the room.

The room was fairly large. Hermione could see a large, black four-poster bed positioned in its center with an unlit, black marble fireplace to their left. A darkly stained chest of drawers stood against the opposite wall. With a gasp, Hermione realized that they were in Draco's bedchamber.

She looked at him for answers but he was already crossing the room. He kicked his shoes off at the foot of the bed, and pulled off his cloak revealing a black button up shirt and black trousers. With a small jump he landed sprawled out on the bed and gestured to the space beside him.

Skeptically, Hermione crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Aren't you the romantic?" Hermione asked flatly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "If you don't want to stay, you don't have to."

Hermione cocked an eyebrow skeptically. "You mean, sleep here?"

"Like I said, if you don't want to, you don't have to."

Hermione slipped off her shoes and swung her legs up onto the bed. "Do you want me to stay here?"

Draco shrugged. "If I didn't, would I have brought you here?"

He extended an arm to her. Annoyed, Hermione rolled over and placed her head on his chest. She could hear his heart pounding hard, and closed her eyes to listen to it. It was a slow, steady beat at first, but the longer she laid there, the faster it began to pound. Hermione jumped with surprise when she felt something touch her head, but it was nothing more than Draco running his fingers through her hair.

His touch was soft as he trailed his fingers through her hair, along her cheek and neck. Hermione felt her heart skip a beat when he placed his lips softly on her forehead. He kissed her cheek, slowly and softly, and then kissed her lips.

Hermione met his lips happily and felt tingles roll down her back as Draco slid his tongue over hers. She brought her hand up behind his neck and buried her fingers in his hair. He made a soft moan as she pulled herself closer to him.

With his free hand, Draco unclasped Hermione's cloak and helped her slide it off. He tossed it behind him and it landed somewhere on the floor. He then ran his hand down her back, teasing the hem of her shirt, before hitching her leg up over him and pulling her closer to him.

"Draco," she whispered.

He pressed his body against hers and kissed her again. He could feel his heart racing, blood pounding in his ears. He could feel himself losing control, despite his attempts to slow his breathing and calm his nerves. He rolled her on top of him and moaned softly; the weight of her on his pelvis made his stomach twist in excitement.

"Draco," Hermione whispered again.

"Yes?" he said, biting her neck softly.

"Go to sleep."

Draco paused for a moment and met Hermione's gaze. At first, he was unsure that he had heard her correctly, but the unwavering look in her eyes told him that their fun was over. Draco let his arms fall to the bed as Hermione climbed off of him. Entirely disappointed, Draco closed his eyes and took several slow, deep breaths to calm himself.

He felt Hermione move next to him. Without looking, he knew that she was laying there silently, watching him. After a moment, he felt her slide off the bed and his eyes snapped open. She had put on her shoes and was now retrieving her cloak. Immediately, Draco's heart fell.

"Are you okay?" he asked, bolting upright. He knew in his gut that something was bothering her.

"Granger?" he said eagerly and he climbed across the bed.

"I need to get some sleep," Hermione answered as she pulled on her cloak.

Draco got up off the bed and positioned himself between her and the door. "Don't go."

"It's late, Malfoy," she answered.

"Please," Draco begged.. "I'll behave if that's what you want."

Hermione chuckled. "And what will they think in the morning when they see me leaving your bedchamber?"

Draco shook his head. "No one will see."

Hermione shook her head and made to pass him, however, Draco blocked her path. She tried to go around him once more, but this time Draco caught her by the shoulders. The look in his eyes was unlike anything Hermione had seen before.

"Will you please stay!" he said much louder than he had intended.

Hermione looked at him skeptically and after a moment, began to question softly, "Do you really want me to?"

He nodded.

With a heavy sigh, Hermione replied, "Alright."

Draco changed into a pair of pajama pants and offered Hermione some more comfortable clothes to sleep in. As she pulled one of his shirts on over her head, she took a deep breath. The shirt smelled like him: deep, strong, and clean.

She made her way to the bed where Draco was waiting for her. She crawled under the comforter and snuggled against his side, resting her head on his chest. She smiled as he kissed her head.

"I'm sorry," he apologized softly.

"For what?" she said. Her eyelids had grown heavy and it was now hard for her to keep her eyes open, especially with Draco running his fingers through her hair.

"It's hard to control myself around you," he whispered. He had closed his eyes and he could feel himself slipping into sleep.

With a soft giggle, Hermione said, "Good night, Draco."

Draco snapped his fingers and the candles around the room were extinguished, leaving them in complete darkness.


	5. Everyone Wants To Know

"I have to say," Harry said as he sipped his drink, "I saw it coming. Ever since his fling with Ginny, Neville's been crazy about Luna."

Hermione nodded, but said nothing. Her thoughts were far away from where they sat in the Three Broomsticks. She lifted her glass to her lips and took a swig of butterbeer.

"I got Ginny's owl this morning," Harry continued, when Hermione did not offer a reply. "She said the family is coming for the wedding and that they'll probably stay here for a few days."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at this. "All of them?" she asked an octave higher than she had intended.

Harry nodded, not meeting her eyes. "Are you going to be okay?"

Hermione sat her mug down and stared at the golden liquid inside. Her thoughts immediately flashed to Ron, whom she had not thought about in months. In fact, she had stopped thinking about him entirely when Draco started writing her that summer. But now that Harry had mentioned the Weasleys, Ron's image seemed to flicker in her mind like a vague memory and she could see his smiling face winking at her.

"Why would I not be?" she asked flatly.

"I was just wondering," he said quickly. "I just know you haven't talked to him since you left the Burrow, so I didn't know if you were over it."

"I am over it," Hermione snapped.

"Good," he added, before quickly taking a deep gulp from his mug.

They sat in awkward silence for a long moment. Harry did not want to further the subject of Ronald Weasley anymore; It may not have made Hermione uncomfortable, but it certainly did him.

"Besides, I have a date," Hermione said rather suddenly.

"A date?"

"Yes," she said.

"To the wedding?" Harry asked, dumbstruck.

"Yes."

"You?"

"Harry Potter!"

He laughed an apology. "I'm sorry."

When she did not offer any more information on the subject, Harry cleared his throat and proceeded to press the issue. "Who is it?"

Hermione did not answer immediately, but instead took a swig of butterbeer.

"Do I know him?"

The corner of Hermione's mouth twitch and she fought a grin. "Yes."

"Is he a world famous Quidditch player?"

Hermione laughed. "No."

"Well that eliminates Krum," Harry said, slightly defeated. "Surely you're not going with McLaggen?"

Hermione glared at Harry. "No. Definitely not McLaggen."

Harry was slightly frustrated. "I give up then."

Hermione said nothing. She was staring across the pub at nothing in particular, refusing to meet Harry's gaze. She knew that if she met his eyes, he would be able to read her. After all, he was her best friend, and he was far better at reading her than anyone else. She couldn't risk him catching on.

"Are you not going to tell me?" he asked.

She shook her head. "It's a surprise."

He laughed. "No offense Hermione, but not many of your surprises have been very good."

Hermione opened her mouth to fire a snappy comeback, but at that moment Neville Longbottom plopped down next to Harry.

"The man of the hour!" Harry chimed and raised his mug in a toast.

Neville forced a crooked smile and raised his own glass. "Cheers, eh?"

"Is everything alright, Neville?" Hermione asked.

Neville nodded. "Just the jitters, I guess."

"It's a bit early for the jitters," Harry said, punching Neville in the forearm. "You've still got a bit more than a month left."

Neville forced a chuckle. Realizing how uncomfortable Neville seemed, Harry decided to change the subject. "Ey, Neville. Hermione won't tell me who she's taking to the wedding. Care to guess?"

Neville furrowed his brow in thought. "Krum?"

Harry shook his head. "She said it's not Krum or McLaggen."

"Hmm..." Neville hummed. "And it's not Ron, right?"

Hermione shook her head quickly.

"Blimey, Hermione, I've never seen you with any other blokes," Neville said. "Does he go here?"

"He went here," she said. Her cheeks were turning red, but not from the Butterbeer.

"What house was he in?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip. "I can't tell you. That would give it away."

Harry smacked his palm to his forehead. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"We'd know if it was anyone from Gryffindor," Neville said. "And it obviously isn't a Slytherin."

Hermione's heart jumped in her chest at the mention of 'Slytherin', but she tried desperately to keep her face expressionless.

"So that leaves Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff," Neville said.

"Hah! Can you imagine Hermione with a Hufflepuff. He's probably a Ravenclaw. Hermione's into the intellectuals," Harry retorted.

Hermione rolled her eyes as the boys called out names of past Ravenclaws.

"What was the bloke's name who played Chaser our third year?" Harry asked.

"I know who you're talking about, but it's not him," Neville said. He had finished his Butterbeer and had pushed the empty glass aside. "He's married."

"Oh," Harry said. After a moment, his eyes lit up and he looked excitedly at Neville. "You should ask Luna! She'll know all the past Ravenclaws..."

"No!" Hermione yelled suddenly, before clapping a hand over her mouth.

"Aha!" Harry said, pointing a finger at Hermione. "So Luna _does_ know."

"She'd never tell you," Hermione snapped. At least she hoped Luna wouldn't let it slip.

"Why don't you just tell us?" Neville asked softly. "We're going to find out who it is eventually."

Hermione stood up, and turned her back on their table. "You'll just have to wait."

Though she tried to avoid running into Harry over the next week, he found a way to bump into her nearly every day. And every time she saw him, the first words out of his mouth would be in regards to the upcoming wedding.

"Give me a hint!" he begged. "Would you least tell me if he _was_ in Ravenclaw? What year did he graduate? What are his initials?"

But Hermione would always turn her back, or suddenly find something important to do. Harry's curiosity eventually subsided, and Hermione finally breathed a sigh of relief. However, her anxiety regarding her date to Luna's wedding did not waver. Harry may have lost his interest for the moment, but she would not be able to escape the scrupulous gazes at the wedding when everyone saw her dancing with Draco Malfoy.

Her anxiety reached its peak one night at the dinner table, when Draco suddenly asked her what color she would be wearing to the wedding.

"Worried we might show up in the same dress?" Hermione asked.

Draco grumbled. "No, I was worried that the gift I bought you wouldn't match."

Hermione's eyes grew wide suddenly and she stammered, "Y-you bought me something?"

"Don't gentlemen usually buy their dates a gift?"

Hermione blushed redder. "So you are planning on going with me then?"

"I said I would didn't I? Did you think I was lying?" he asked, clearly offended.

"It's just that everyone will see you with me. Even with a mask on, it's going to be obvious who you are. You don't exactly blend in," she explained softly, twirling the food on her plate with a fork.

If Hermione had been looking at Draco, she would have saw the slightest flinch in his stone-like expression: something between intrigue and disbelief. But her eyes were fixed on her plate.

"If it bothered me, do you think I would go with you?" he asked, not looking at her.

Hermione bit her bottom lip, afraid to answer what was most on her mind. "And if word gets back to your family that you're dating a - someone like me?"

Draco was on the verge of anger now, but he fought to keep his voice level. "Someone like you? Someone beautiful? Smart?"

He paused for a second and took a breath before continuing, "I'm not like them, Granger. You of all people should know that by now."

Hermione opened her mouth, but was speechless. Her heart swelled in her chest. Draco Malfoy _had _truly changed, and he was going to prove it to all of Hogwarts by accompanying her to Luna and Neville's wedding. What was more, he sounded as though he _wanted_ to prove it.

"Purple," Hermione said after a long pause, desperate to change the subject.

Draco looked as though Hermione had just spoken to him in Gobbledegook.

"Come again?" he said.

"I'm wearing purple to the wedding."

"Oh," he said as he cut into a piece of steak. "Then it should match fine."

"What did you get me?" Hermione asked in the sweetest voice she could muster.

Draco smirked. "It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it?"

...x...x...

"Ginny should be here any minute," Hermione said as she glanced both ways down the road that ran through Hogsmeade. She, Luna Lovegood, and Cho Chang were all waiting outside Madam Malkins for the final member of their party to arrive.

"There she is!" Luna exclaimed and she pointed at a figure farther down the road. Had it not been for her flaming red hair, Hermione would never have been able to identify Ginny Weasley from so far away.

"Luna! Hermione! Cho!" Ginny exclaimed as she broke into a jog. When she arrived they all embraced rather quickly.

"We'd better get going, you guys," Cho urged. "We're already late."

In a fit of giggles, the four girls stepped through the doorway of Madam Malkins and were swept over by a blanket of cozy, warm air. An elderly witch wearing navy blue robes stood behind the counter; she had wiry gray hair and wore tiny, pink-framed reading glasses.

"Come on in girls, we've got a lot to do!" the woman said, gesturing for them to follow her into the back of the store.

The room was small, and lined on all sides by rolls of different colored fabric. The only things occupying the center of the room were a full length mirror and a small stool.

"First we'll get your measurements," the witch said eagerly and pointed to the stool in the center of the room. "One of you hop up here and the rest of you can pick which fabric you would like your dresses made out of."

After exchanging confused looks with the rest of the girls, Cho bravely stepped forward and took her position on the stepping stool. The other girls watched as a measuring tape sprang to life and began flying in circles around Cho, who could not stop laughing. All the while, the elderly witch scribbled notes down on a scroll of parchment.

All four girls took their turn standing on the stool while the lively measuring tape flipped and flitted and took their measurements. By the time everyone had their go, they had each selected the fabric that they wanted their dresses to be made out of. Ginny had a silky, turquoise roll tucked under her arm, Cho had chosen rose red, and as Hermione had promised Malfoy, she had selected a glittering, violet colored fabric.

Luna, rather than choosing a traditional white fabric for her wedding dress, had a waist-high pile of fabrics stacked neatly at her side. They varied in color as much as the bridesmaids dresses did: There was pumpkin orange, lemon yellow, hot pink, neon green, gold, silver, and one with several different colored stripes. None of the other girls said anything as the elderly witch curiously observed Luna's choices: After all, nothing less could be expected of the bride. Of all the wild and crazy outfits she had ever put together, her wedding dress had to take the cake.

"Well then," the witch said, "I'll see what I can do."

The elderly witch then spent several minutes with each girl, sketching a rough draft of each of their dresses. Luna's sketch took considerably more time than the other three because she kept adding layers and appliques, and by the time they left it was mid-afternoon.

From Madam Malkins, the girls made their way across the street to the Three Broomsticks. It was fairly crowded, but they managed to find an empty booth. There were empty mugs still sitting on the table, but with a wave of her wand, Hermione made them all disappear.

"So, Ginny," Luna said over the noise of the crowd. "Do you miss Hogwarts?"

Ginny smiled nostalgically. "Yes. Ron and I figure we might come back after Christmas, if Professor McGonagall says its alright."

"I'm sure she will," Cho assured her. "I doubt she'd want to tell you no."

Ginny smiled. "Besides, it's getting pretty depressing being at home all the time. Dad's gone back to work, but George seems to have lost his drive. I thought for sure that when Percy offered to help him run the joke shop that he'd get out of the house more, but he mainly leaves Lee in charge."

Hermione frowned. The sinking feeling of guilt was quickly overcoming her: She had been so caught up in Draco, and teaching, and helping Luna with the wedding, that she had hardly thought about the Weasleys and how they were coping with their losses.

"And Teddy's just a handful. I have officially decided that I don't want kids," Ginny said firmly.

"Awww! Don't write them off just yet," Luna pleaded. "We all want to see what a red-headed baby Harry would look like."

Ginny laughed heartily as the waitress approached the table, who took their order of four cups of hot cocoa.

"It's not going to be awkward for you if Ron brings a date, is it?" Ginny asked Hermione quietly while Cho and Luna were busy discussing the flower arrangements of the bouquets.

"He has a date?" Hermione asked, trying not to sound interested.

"It's nothing serious," Ginny quickly assured her. "They met a few weeks ago at a Quidditch match. She a die-hard Ireland fan. It won't be awkward, will it?"

Hermione wasn't sure what to say. She had not imagined Ron bringing a date to the wedding. She had simply been worried about him seeing her with Draco... about anyone seeing her with Draco. But the thought of Ron dancing with a pretty, blonde girl (Hermione wondered for a split second why she imagined a blonde) in a ball gown made her stomach flip uncomfortably.

"Of course not," Hermione said, forcing a laugh. "Why would it be awkward?"

Ginny looked over Hermione curiously, but eventually decided that she was telling the truth. Luna, at some point, had turned her attention from flowers to Hermione and Ginny's conversation, because she suddenly piped, "Hermione's already got a date."

Cho and Ginny looked equally surprised.

"Is it Krum?" Cho asked curiously.

"No," Hermione answered. "And why does everyone assume I'm going with Krum?"

"Are you going to tell us who it is?" Ginny questioned seriously.

Hermione flashed a quick look at Luna, who was staring straight up at the ceiling, before saying, "No."

"Aww! Hermione, you're no fair," Cho complained.

"You'll just have to wait and see," Hermione told them. A knot had formed in the pit of her stomach, the result of her growing anxiety. Not being able to tell anyone about her date with Draco Malfoy was beginning to eat at her.


	6. A Twisted Friendship Emerges

"Harry!"

Hermione had just rounded the corner when she saw him coming out of his office. She had called out without hesitation, but immediately clasped her hand over her mouth.

"'Ey Hermione!" he called. "Are you headed to the Great Hall?"

Hermione hurried to his side and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "No," she said. "But I'll walk with you. There's something I need to tell you."

Harry cocked an eyebrow at her and nodded. "Sure. What is it?"

Hermione glanced around nervously; There were a few students floating around the corridor, but none of them were paying Harry or Hermione any piece of mind. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but fell silent instead.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Harry asked nervously. "Did something happen?"

"Perhaps we should go somewhere more private?" she suggested.

"Sure," Harry said skeptically. "Let's go into my office."

Harry opened the door for her and Hermione slipped inside the room. She glanced around at the familiar surroundings; Very little had changed since the office had belonged to Professor McGonagall. A large desk was pushed to the back wall of the room, leaving a wide greeting area occupied only by an old rug. A single vacant portrait hung on the wall, its muddled yellow back splash blaring at Hermione. Her mind tingled as she tried to remember where she knew the painting from, but she quickly shook away the thought when Harry closed the office door.

"Well?" Harry said, eager to find out why Hermione was so flustered.

Hermione bit her bottom lip and glanced nervously around the room. Her heart was racing in her chest, but she tried to ignore it.

"I'm not sure where to begin," she admitted.

Harry strode across the office and took a seat on the edge of his desk. "Come on, Hermione. It's can't be that bad."

"You have to keep an open mind," she assured him. "Okay?"

Harry nodded.

With a deep breath, Hermione closed her eyes and began to tell Harry everything she had been harboring in utmost secrecy since the beginning of the school year.

...x...x...

"Hermione," Draco said as they were standing to leave from the teacher's table. They were two of the last occupants of the Great Hall, and the other professors who had still not drifted off to bed were out of ear shot. "Will you come with me?"

Hermione fought a smile at the sound of her name. Instead of replying, she nodded slowly and followed silently as Draco led the way out of the hall. It was much cooler in the corridor than it had been in the great hall, and Hermione felt goose bumps raise instantly on her arms.

They walked a very short distance before Draco turned sharply and opened a door to their right. He stepped politely aside to allow for Hermione to pass through the doorway into a small, vacant room. It was dimly lit by three lamps that were hung on the wall.

"I've never been in this room," Hermione observed softly as she gazed curiously around the foreign room. "How did you know it was empty."

"I didn't."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, but did not pursue the subject. "What did you have to show me?"

Draco opened his mouth, but then closed it again very quickly. He looked at Hermione, knowing she had noticed his falter, and smiled. "I bought you something."

With a smirk, Hermione glanced around the room. "Is it invisible?"

Draco scowled. "No," he said as he reached inside his robes to retrieve a small package. It was still wrapped with brown paper and tied with a cord as though it had just been delivered. He handed it very unceremoniously to Hermione and waited for her to open it.

Hermione blushed as she tugged the cord loose and unwrapped the parcel. Inside the paper she found a small black box. She glanced up at Draco for a moment, who remained expressionless, before opening it. She caught her breath when she saw what was looking back at her from inside.

Perched in the middle of the box was a thick, silver ring. The band of the ring was flecked with glittering diamonds and two emeralds were positioned off center of the middle. Hermione could not control the first thoughts that came to her mind. _Such an odd configuration_, she thought. _Why would the emeralds be positioned in such a way? _After looking at the ring for a moment longer, she brought it closer to her eyes and realized that the emeralds were actually the eyes of a snake and that the silver band was the snake's body, wrapped around to form a circle. She felt an immediate rush of admiration for the ring when she saw it for what it truly was and she smiled.

"Do you like it?" Draco asked eagerly when Hermione did not say anything initially.

"I love it," Hermione said softly. She pulled the ring from the resting place in the box and slid it on her finger. "And it fits."

Draco smirked, his confidence now back in full swing. "I'm a good guess," he said proudly.

Hermione twisted and turned her hand so that each of the gems caught the lamp light and glittered beautifully. "You didn't have to buy me anything," she assured him bashfully.

Draco pulled her into his arms. "Yes, I did."

"And why is that?" she asked.

Their lips were only a hair's breadth apart, but neither one of them moved to seal their kiss.

"A special girl deserves a special gift, don't you think?" he said, arching his eyebrows.

Hermione smiled and nudged herself forward so that her lips met his.

...x...x...x...

"Wait, wait, wait," Harry said suddenly. The look on his face was a mix of horror and hilarity. "Draco Malfoy gave you a ring?"

"Yes," she answered.

"The same Draco Malfoy that we've hated for the past seven years?"

"Yes, but-"

"What are you thinking, Hermione?" he asked desperately. "Draco Malfoy is-"

"-changed!" Hermione snapped. "You don't know him like I know him, now shut up and listen to the rest of my story."

"For your information, this doesn't match what I'm wearing to the wedding," Hermione teased.

Draco laughed. "For your information, everything goes with silver and green. And besides, that's not what I bought you to wear to the wedding. _That_, is for you to wear every day."

Draco kissed her again and felt her smile on his lips. He could finally breath again, now that he had given her the ring, and now all he wanted was to be close to her. Something about her always drove him crazy, yet he still couldn't figure out what the 'something' was. Perhaps it was her smile. Perhaps it was the way she looked at him. Perhaps it was the fact that they hadn't had sex, and it took every ounce of will power he could muster not to give in to his desires and take her over and over again.

"You know everyone is dying to know who I'm going with to the wedding," Hermione teased.

"Why don't you tell them, if they want to know so badly?" Draco asked.

"Because we're Professors," Hermione said the first thing that came to mind. "We're not students anymore. We can't just go around saying we're dating."

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "Dating? I thought it was just _a_ date to a wedding."

Hermione's mouth fell open and she felt the blood rush from her face. "I-I meant that-"

"Is that what you want?" he asked flatly, staring eagerly into her beautiful brown eyes. "To be dating?"

The blood had returned to Hermione's face and she could now feel her cheeks burning hot. She was lost in Draco's gaze, staring into his steel gray eyes, and was unable to register any sort of response. His words were slowing sinking into her mind, ever so slowly, as though they were passing through molasses. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. She couldn't understand what was taking her so long to register what Draco was implicating: For her to be his _girlfriend_.

After a long moment, time seemed to return to normal, and everything was moving at its normal pace. Hermione could feel her heart pounding quickly in her chest, hear her shaky breathing, and feel Draco's arms tightening around her. She could see the eager look in Draco's eye as he waited for her response.

"Is that what _you_ want?" Hermione asked, determined to make him wait as long as possible for her answer.

Without hesitation, Draco answered, "Yes."

Hermione felt her heart leap in her chest and she fought the wide smile that was making its way across her face. Draco cupped his hand behind Hermione's head and pulled her into a deep kiss, much more passionate than she had been expecting. She felt her knees go week and she locked her hands over his shoulders to steady herself.

...x...x...x...

"You and Draco are dating?" Harry interjected once again; He could hardly control himself.

"Er-" Hermione stammered. "Yes. We are."

"You're mental."

For a split second, Hermione had been relieved to tell Harry about her and Draco, but Harry's reaction was nothing like Hermione had expected. She should have foreseen this, however, because she knew how much he hated Draco.

"I am not," Hermione snapped. "You said you would keep an open mind!"

"Hermione, no one's mind is _that_ open."

She scowled. "Luna doesn't mind."

This time, Harry laughed. "I take back my previous statement. Only Luna's mind is _that _open."

"Harry Potter would you just give him a chance? What if he really has changed? You yourself know that he wouldn't have killed Dumbledore, and you know that he didn't turn you over at the manor that night."

"Okay," Harry huffed irritatedly, "So the foul git might not be pure evil. But Hermione..."

Hermione huffed. "I thought you of all people would know better than to challenge my judgment. Why can't you just be happy for me?"

"Dumbledore was brilliant, Hermione, and even he made mistakes."

"And Dumbledore would have given Draco a second chance," Hermione quickly retorted.

Harry removed his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. "All I'm saying is that you need to be careful, Hermione. How do you know he's not lying? His family is disgraced, and being with you would be just the thing to get him back in good graces."

Hermione paused and raised an eyebrow at Harry. "What do you mean?"

"Think about it, Hermione," he said. "What better way for Draco to show that he's changed and that he's not the same as the rest of the scum in his family than to be seen with a muggle born. It's the ultimate pardon!"

Try as she may, Hermione could not rid herself of the bad taste in her mouth that manifested at Harry's words. His words had been like a heavy blow to her gut.

"I could read his mind if I wanted to," Hermione spat sourly.

Realizing he had hurt her feelings, Harry tried to comfort her. "If you trust him, I'll try. But, Hermione, I can't make any promises."

Hermione forced a smile. "Will you really?"

"You're my best friend, Hermione. And your friendship means more to me than my hatred for him," Harry said.

She smiled with relief. Harry trusted her and he trusted her judgment. But most importantly, he was accepting of her and Draco's relationship. It was a tall order, but the smallest part of Hermione told her that Harry would warm up to Draco... eventually.

Hermione's conversation with Harry earlier that morning had put her in a fine mood. Not even the impressive collection of homework assignments waiting for her on her desk could dampen her spirits. In fact, she was so preoccupied with thoughts of Draco, and Harry's semi-positive reaction, and the upcoming wedding that she hardly paused to correct any misspellings and gave her students considerably fairer grades than she might have otherwise.

It was hardly a surprise to her when Draco strolled into her office with a smug smile and a proud step.

"So, you told Potter?" he asked.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Did he mention it?"

Draco chuckled. "Not even close. He kind of waved at me in the corridor. I figured you must have had something to do with it."

"Aww," Hermione cooed. "He _is_ trying."

Draco gave her a disgusted look before regaining his composure. "How about you take a break and accompany me to Hogsmeade?"

Hermione looked despairingly over the mountain of papers stacked on her desk for a moment before standing and pulled on her travel coat.

"Perhaps for a bit," she said, the corner of her mouth curved upward into a smirk.

Before he opened the office door, Draco stooped and kissed Hermione softly on her lips. As he did so, he inhaled deeply, smelling the sweet aroma of her perfume. Reluctantly, he pulled himself away from her and tugged open the office door.

If Draco had been in any sort of a hurry, he would have ran straight into Harry who was standing on the opposite side of the door, his hand still raised as though he were going to knock. Their stunned expressions were identical as they both fought to find something to say. Finally, it was Hermione who intervened.

"Harry!" she said.

"Er-" Harry said, looking back and forth between Draco and Hermione. "I was headed to the Three Broomsticks. I was going to see if you wanted to come."

"Oh," Hermione sighed. "We were actually headed there ourselves."

"Why don't you come with us?" Draco asked suddenly. Both Harry and Hermione stared at him in bewilderment, but his expression remained calm and flawless.

"Well," Harry stammered, still trying to recover from the awkwardness of it all. "I don't want to... you two should..."

"Oh, Harry, I think it's a great idea!" Hermione exclaimed.

"You do?" Harry asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Come on, Potter," Draco urged. "You were planning on going anyway."

"Okay," Harry finally agreed. He fell into step at Hermione's side while Draco marched along on her other side.

It was several minutes before anyone spoke. None of them were prepared for the bite of the cold wind as they stepped out into the night.

"Bloody hell!" Harry blurted and shoved his hands in his coat pockets. "Can we fly there? It'll be faster."

"Absolutely not," Hermione said shaking her head fiercely. "If I never fly again in my life it'll be too soon."

They all laughed.

Hermione glanced nervously over at Draco whose expression was difficult to read. It may have been due to the frigid air, or he might have been concentrating on something, but he looked slightly angry. After a moment he met her eyes and smiled. Then, he reached and caught her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. Despite the cold air, Hermione's cheeks flushed warmly.

Draco still had hold of Hermione's hand when they reached the village. Harry led the way into the Three Broomsticks and fought his way through a dense crowd to find a vacant booth. Draco let Hermione slide into the booth first before he took a seat and Harry sat down across from them.

"There's never this many people here, even on the weekends," Hermione said loudly.

"Ireland won today!" Harry said, equally as loud.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She only cared about Quidditch when Gryffindor played.

"I'm going to go get us drinks," Draco announced and stood up from the booth. "Butterbeer?"

The other two nodded. Draco spun on his heel and made his way through the crowd to the bar.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at Harry as though daring him to say something.

"Did you give him a love potion?" Harry asked, leaning over the table so that he would not have to yell.

"Very funny," Hermione snapped. "I told you. He's changed."

"He certainly is... different," Harry said. "I wonder if he's been Imperiused."

"Harry!"

Harry grinned. "Only joking."

"He really is a nice guy," Hermione admired as she caught a glimpse of Draco's blonde hair through the crowd. He was still ordering their drinks at the bar. "We were wrong about him."

Harry made a disgusted face.

Before they knew it, Draco had returned with three tall mugs of butterbeer. He slid them across the table accordingly and Harry eyed his curiously.

"Think it's poisoned, Potter?"

It was a moment before Harry or Hermione realized that Draco had spoken.

"Is it?" Harry asked.

"I wouldn't tell you if it was," Draco sneered. "But you can have mine if you want."

Harry gritted his teeth, caught the look Hermione was giving him, and then took a deep breath to relax.

"Here's to life," Harry said jokingly as he raised his mug and then took a deep gulp.

Everyone waited anxiously to see if Harry was going to keel over, but when he remained perfectly normal for several minutes, the tense air surrounding the table diminished and conversation commenced once again.

"So I heard Madam Hooch is retiring," Draco directed at Harry.

Harry nodded. "I've heard that. I don't know if I buy it, though. She'll probably be refereeing until she's ninety."

Hermione forced a laugh, although she had no particular interest in this subject. _At least their speaking_, she reminded herself as she took another sip of her butterbeer.

"Nah, I'm pretty sure this is her last year," Draco said with certainty. "You should apply for the job."

Harry's eyes bulged as he tried to comprehend what Draco had just said. "You don't want the job, then?" he asked curiously.

"Not particularly," he answered.

"It does seem promising," Harry said. "I can't stand grading all these bloody homework assignments."

"You would have to deal with students who can't walk and carry a broomstick at the same time." Draco winked at Hermione who blushed scarlet. "Personally, I wouldn't have the patience for them."

"Can we change the subject please?" Hermione grumbled.

"Certainly," Draco said with a smile. "Would you please explain to us the difference between inanimate and animate transfiguration?"

Hermione cocked an eyebrow, but Harry smiled. "Or possibly the properties of wolfsbane and how best we could go about writing a thorough essay on the subject?"

Hermione scowled. "I hate both of you."

Draco and Harry laughed and Hermione was taken aback. Their chorus of laughter meshed oddly and beautifully, unlike anything Hermione had ever heard.

_This just might work_, Hermione thought to herself.


End file.
